Lost At Home
by Cable99
Summary: A hidden time in ST history. A young Star Fleet officer finds herself in a strange and terrible place.


It was cold as Mike Gill walked along the highway. His breath came out in plumes, barely visible in the star light. This far out of the Phoenix metro area the natural desert conditions took over. Without the works of Man to absorb the sunlight and retain heat, nighttime desert temperatures could reach down into the 20s. Mike pulled the sash of his overcoat tighter and shifted the knapsack on his back into a more comfortable position. Glancing up from the tarmac, he looked ahead at the Superstition Mountains. Although he'd been walking since yesterday, they still looked as far away as ever. Suddenly, there was a bright flaring of light over one of the peaks. It was unusual-looking, a swirling of blue that expanded and then contracted in on itself. From its heart, in the brief moment of its existence, a glowing yellow blob burst forth. The blob was moving in a downward trajectory, growing larger as it came towards him. Instincts honed from growing up in a world at war took over and he threw himself onto the ground. The light roared over him, crackling with energy, and slammed into the earth a few hundred yards back the way he had come. The shockwave from the impact jarred his bones as he lay there in the scrub that lined the I-10. He kept his head down until the noise subsided and then cautiously looked back over his shoulder. When he was certain nothing was moving around where whatever-it-was had crashed he cautiously got to his feet.

The craft, if that's what it was, had come down a good ways from the highway. Mike struggled through tumbleweeds and dodged beds of prickly pear cactus as he made his way towards it. There was a faint glow from the crash site which quickly died, making it harder to find in the dark. Eventually, Mike found it the old-fashioned way by walking right into it. The vehicle was almost half-buried in the sand and it still radiated heat. Mike took a second to hold his hands out, absorbing the warmth right through his gloves. The vehicle was large and streamlined, with an odd manta ray shape to its wings. There weren't any engine nozzles visible in the back and if it had any markings Mike couldn't see them in the darkness. He unslung his bulging pack and rummaged around until he found his maglite. After twisting it on, he ran the beam up and down the side of the craft. Most of the paint was blistered, as if it had suffered intense heat effects. The only visible markings were an unusual rounded-off triangle symbol and the words U.S.S. OSPREY. Anything else written on it had been burned off.

"Some kind of sub-orbital scramjet?" Mike thought. "Air Force, probably, and an experimental model at that. It must have been using a booster rocket 'cause there aint no engine that I can see. And those pontoons under the wings make me think it was s'posed to land on water." He began looking for a way to open the tinted canopy window. "Whoever was flying this thing might be hurt," he thought. "I'd better see if I can get them out of there." He was frustrated in his efforts, though, as there didn't seem to be any kind of release mechanism. He was considering smashing the windshield with a rock when the tail end of the craft began to hum. Alarmed, he stepped back from the vehicle. A moment later the back of the craft gave off a cheery yellowish light. Curiosity won out over fear and Mike crept around to the back to see what was causing the light.

The back of the vehicle had dropped down to act as a ramp and the light was coming from the interior. A Hispanic-looking woman lay crumpled on the ground where the ramp met the sand. Blood was slowly pooling by her head. Mike hurried over to her and crouched down. He dropped his pack next to her and pulled his first aid kit out. He tore open a wipe to clean out her wound and stuffed a gauze pad under the edge of his wool beanie so he could reach it swiftly. The blood was soaking into the sand almost immediately so he couldn't tell how badly she was bleeding. With her face pointing away from the craft it was hard to make out details but she seemed to have a large gash on her forehead. Sticking the narrow maglite into his mouth, he dabbed at the wound with the antiseptic wipe. She moaned once, softly, as he worked. As soon as the excess blood was cleared he tossed the wipe and snatched the gauze pad from his hat to press against the wound. Working one-handed, he pinched a roll of surgical tape between his knees and tore off a strip. Once he'd gotten the first strip across the bandage things went easier. He swiftly secured it with two more strips of tape. A cursory examination showed that was the only obvious wound she had received. As he looked her over in the glow of his maglite he was struck by the unusual cut of her clothes. She had on a jumpsuit and jacket combination. The outfit looked like a uniform but the only insignia seemed to be a set of three shiny round buttons on her collar. The uniform itself was all in black and gray, with a hint of red at the collar. Just then there was a stutter of sparks and the light from the vehicle's interior flickered and went out. He pointed his maglite back into the craft. At the top of the ramp lay another figure, a man. Mike didn't need to go check on him. In this Year of Our Lord 2053 most of the people left alive could spot the signs of death swiftly from long years of practice. Mike Gill was no different. He knew the guy couldn't have survived in that position. His neck was undoubtedly snapped. As he turned back to the woman his beam passed over the discarded wipe. Startled, he then pointed it at the bandage on her face. With an inarticulate cry he dropped the maglite and scrambled backwards, trying to get away from her. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "It's green!"

From ten feet away Mike stared at the woman, panting hard. He pulled his beanie off and ran a shaking hand through his hair. "Her blood is green!" his mind gibbered at him. "Who has green blood?" At that moment the woman moaned again. Stirring slightly, her hand went to the bandage on her forehead. Her eyes flickered open.

"Is anybody there?" Her voice was almost melodic in tone. "Its too dark, I can't see you. Can you help me? My head is killing me. I think I have a concussion." From the glow of the dropped maglite Mike could see her fingers gingerly probe the bandage. "Nice field dressing. Could you help me up? I'm not sure I can stand on my own." Mike put his hat back on. He slipped the .38 out of his ankle holster and eased forward to within a few feet of her. He kept the pistol covering her the whole time. "Is that a weapon?" she asked. "I don't think you need it. I'm not in any shape to go pon farr on you." She chuckled and then winced in pain.

Mike couldn't help himself. "Pon what?" he blurted out.

"Never mind," she replied. "Could you help me sit up at least? And you can put that weapon away. I couldn't hurt you if I wanted to. Which I don't." Mike reached over to the maglite and shined it on the crumpled wipe.

"Your blood is green," he said accusatorily. "Where did you get green blood?"

"From my mother," she quipped. "Why, you don't like green? What's going on here? Are you going to leave me lying here or are you going to help me?" She sounded a little irked to Mike. Reluctantly, he pocketed the pistol and helped ease her into a sitting position. She immediately bent over and puked. "Yeah, I'd say that's a concussion. There's a med kit strapped to the left bulkhead. Could you get it for me, please?" Mike headed into the craft, stepping over the dead man. He found a steel box with a caduceus strapped to the wall and pulled it down. As he was exiting he caught a glimpse of the corpse in his light and nearly stumbled down the ramp.

"Th-that man, he-he-he's blue!" The med kit remained in his hands, forgotten. She gently pulled it free and began rummaging around in it. Finding what she needed, she pressed a cylinder to her neck. It hissed softly and she sighed with relief.

"Yeah," she said sarcastically, "Most Bolians are. Poor Hendra! He must have been thrown against the injector controls when we crashed. I saw he was dead when I exited the flyer." Mike gaped at her, eyes wide.

"W-who are you people?" The shock in his voice was evident. "Your blood is green, he's got blue skin, who are you people?!" Mike was on the verge of panic.

"Sorry," the woman said, "Where are my manners? I'm Lt. Commander T'Ela Martinez and that was Lt. Hendra Ra. We're from the Starfleet testing facility out of White Sands. Something went wrong with our test flight and we lost control of the Osprey, there, and crashed. And who are you, that you've never seen a Bolian?"

"Lady, uh, Ms. Martinez, my name is Mike Gill and I know that White Sands is an Air Force base. I aint never heard of no 'Starfleet' and I sure as hell never heard of anything called a 'Bolian'. You are starting to freak me out." His voice quavered a little bit as he said this.

Martinez sat quiet for a few moments and then, in a soft, even voice, she asked, "Mike, could you point that light at yourself for a moment? I'd like to see who rescued me." There was an odd note as she spoke that Mike couldn't put his finger on but he did as she requested. He was careful to keep the light out of his eyes so he wouldn't mess up his night vision. He heard her give a tiny gasp. "Mike, I think I got messed up in the crash worse than I first thought. Could you tell me where we are and what the date is?"

Mike pointed the light back in her general direction. "We're about seven miles west of the Superstitions. Today is July second, no, wait, its after midnight. July third."

"The Superstitions means we came down in Arizona, not far from Phoenix." She seemed to almost be talking to herself. "Mike, this is going to sound weird but what year is it?"

When he answered, "2053" all of the color drained from her face. He thought she was going to pass out again. She moaned and hugged the medical kit to her breast, rocking slightly. "What am I going to do?" she muttered, "I don't know what to do." Tears slowly traced down her face. Despite being freaked out by her and her dead companion Mike's heart went out to her. She seemed absolutely devastated. He wondered if shock was setting in. "July 3rd, 2053. July 3rd, 2053." She kept muttering it over and over, her teeth chattering. Mike realized she was probably getting cold in the night air.

"Do you happen to have a jacket in that ship of yours? Its pretty brisk out here." She didn't respond. She just kept muttering and rocking back and forth. Shrugging, he made his way into the Osprey. He pulled open a locker and found several hand-held computers of an unfamiliar make, along with a brace of strange pistols. He put all of this on the floor of the craft and pulled open another locker. It held what looked like pressure suits. The third one had parkas and gloves as well as insulated pants. He grabbed a pair of the gloves and one of the jackets and, gathering up the strange equipment, he headed back out. The guns and computers went into his pack. He had to pry the medical kit out of her arms in order to get the jacket on her. That went into the pack also. By the time he was ready for the gloves she'd pulled herself together enough to help.

"We need to close up the Osprey. I can't have anyone stumbling across it. Where do you suggest we go from here? Back to Phoenix?" Martinez seemed almost determined now. "No, we can't go to Phoenix. Easier to just shoot ourselves in the head. Quicker and cleaner. So where to, my new friend?" Mike was a bit taken aback by her sudden turn-around.

"Well, uh, I have some friends who run a sort of commune up in the mountains. I was on my way there when I found you. What do you mean, we can't go to Phoenix? That was a weird thing to say." He peered at her as he helped her up. Her face took on an evasive look.

"Let's just say your friends' commune in the mountains sounds ideal." She walked over to the Osprey and did something to a panel inside the entrance. The ramp raised up and sealed shut. "Lead the way, Mike. You think we can make it to this place by six tomorrow?"

"Um, yeah, if we start walking and pretty much don't stop we can be there by noon. You still haven't answered my questions, though. Why was you friend blue? Why do you have green blood? And what was that about dying in Phoenix?" He was growing impatient with her, she could tell.

"Look, Mike, if we can start walking I'll tell you what I can. There are rules to what I can say, though, and you have to trust me that they exist for a reason. If I say I can't answer one of your questions-I can't. Fair enough?" She looked into his face earnestly, waiting for his reply. He nodded curtly and shrugged into his pack. Turning away towards the I-10, he began to walk. She hurriedly caught up. "See, Mike, things are complicated for me. This," she waved her arm to take in the surrounding desert, "Is all new to me. Which is ironic, because I actually grew up in Tempe." She giggled and if there was a faint hint of hysteria in it Mike chose to ignore it. "Ask your questions and I'll tell you what I can."

Mike looked at her as they marched along. "What's up with the blue guy?"

"Would you believe me if I told you he was an alien from outer space? That's just the way his people look." She watched him carefully as she said this. He looked lost in thought for a while. Then he nodded.

"Ok, he's an alien. So what's your story? Are you an alien too?" He sounded more curious than afraid. Martinez considered for a moment before replying.

"Well, my last name is Martinez and I grew up in Tempe, Arizona. I suspect you are referring to the green blood, correct?" At his nod she sighed. "My dad was an engineer in San Francisco when he was younger. He met my mother at Fisherman's Wharf. She worked at a diplomatic consulate. Her people are known as the Vulcans. Their home world circles a different sun. In about ten years one of their ships is going to land on Earth and make First Contact with humanity." She waited for his reaction.

"Ok, you're half alien. You said ten years from now. You know something about the future. What else do you know? Something to do with Phoenix, I'd guess. And the date shocked you silly. What's so special about July 3rd, 2053?" He spoke a bit sharper than he intended and she drew away from him a little.

After a moment she shrugged. "I guess it can't hurt to tell you. I told you I grew up in this region. It would have been more accurate to say I will grow up around here. In about three hundred and thirty years or so. And July 3rd, 2053 means nothing to me."

Mike caught the peculiar emphasis she put on "July 3rd". "So why did you sit there repeating it over and over?"

"Let me ask you something. What's happening with the war between the Econ and the New United Nations?"

Mike grinned. "We've been fighting this thing since the year I was born, on again and off again. After twenty-seven years it looks like the Econ is about to collapse. Could happen any day now." He seemed pleased at the prospect.

Martinez shook her head gloomily. "The war isn't going to end like you think, Mike. I'm sorry, but that's why we need to get to your friends' commune in the mountains. We'll be safe there. See, I wasn't lying. July third means nothing to me. Every schoolchild in my time knows what happened, what will happen on July 4th, 2053 at six o'clock pacific time, though. Driven to desperation, the Econ will launch an all-out nuclear attack against the West. The West will respond. Six hundred million people will die tomorrow. One of the missiles that leaks through the defensive umbrella will hit Palo Verde nuclear power plant west of Phoenix."

Mike stopped dead in his tracks. "We gotta go back and tell someone!"

"No!" Martinez's voice cracked out over the desert. "I can't be responsible for changing history! Our best bet is to hide out in the mountains until the radiation dies down. Then I can look over my ship and see if I can find a way home." Mike looked at her in disgust.

"You'd let all of those people die-" he sneered.

"I have to. I grew up in Tempe because my father worked on the Palo Verde Reclamation Project. I change things-I could cease to exist!" she was crying now. This gave Mike pause as he absorbed what she'd said. "Mike, I'm not sure what to do. I've never been stuck in the past before. I just know I have to avoid changing things. Please try to understand!" The tears were flowing freely down her face and Mike realized she wasn't any older than him. Younger, even. He put his arm around her shoulder and patted her awkwardly on the back.

Staring off in the direction of the doomed city, Mike reflected on what she'd said. He thought of the clean lines of the Osprey and the lack of visible engines. Great advances would come in the future. And this pretty, young pilot who's mother came from another world. A co-pilot from still another world. They were all obviously the end-products of some vast confederation of some sort. He thought of what she'd said about aliens landing ten years from now. Lifting her chin gently, he said, "C'mon, let's go find my friends. The future can be what it needs to be." He smiled at her in the early morning twilight. Her tentative smile in reply lifted some of the darkness and sorrow in his heart. They turned back towards the mountains and continued walking as the sun started to rise.

Thomas Grayson heaved himself up out of the old chair. Pain shot through his hips as he stood and his twisted and deformed fingers scrabbled on the armrests for support. He quickly grabbed his cane for balance. Outside, he could hear the children shouting enthusiastically although the farmhouse walls blurred their words. Their cries were accompanied by the howls and bays of the resident beagles who roamed the property. Thomas limped over to the large frontroom window and pushed the linen curtain aside so he could look outside. The children were out by the farm's main gate, hanging on the corral fence and pointing up the road. Thomas didn't have his glasses on so he had to squint to make out the two figures. They were still a ways off, having just exited the mountain pass into the bowl-shaped valley that housed the farm. Thomas wasn't sure, but he thought it was a man and a woman. He pulled a comb from his back pocket and ran it through his gray and white hair. Checking his appearance in the mirror over the fireplace, he straightened the collar of his flannel shirt. After brushing at a non-existent bit of lint on his blue jeans he opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch.

The bright Arizona sun beat down on him, making him squeeze his eyes almost shut. The two strangers were still some ways away, walking slowly but steadily down the dirt road that cut through the apple orchards. Thomas eased himself into one of the homemade rockers to wait for their arrival. The front door swung open and Wendy Nakamura stepped out.

"What's going on, Thomas?" Wendy was wiping her hands on a dish towel as she spoke. At four feet eleven she was closer in size to many of the children on the farm than she was to the other adults. Thomas wasn't surprised that she had been the first to react to the children's hullabaloo, though. What Wendy lacked in size she more than made up for in sheer energy. As she looked towards the source of the kids' attention she said, "Oh, we have company coming! How nice! It's been a while since anyone new has come by. I wonder why they're walking, though? The closest town is Apache Junction and that's at least twenty-five miles away. Do you think their car broke down?" Thomas smiled at the torrent of words.

"I suspect we'll find out shortly. Maybe you should call the kids and dogs back from the main gate. They're liable to scare the pants off of those two people. I mean, that's just a bit more chaos than we should inflict on someone who isn't used to it, don't you think?" Wendy began yelling at the children to return to the house. She didn't bother to yell at the dogs. Wherever the kids went the canines followed. There was protest from a few but being generally well-behaved they listened to Wendy and came back to the farmhouse. Wendy told them all to wash up and "make themselves presentable" as they trooped in. Then she took the chair next to Thomas and peered up the road at the two travelers.

"Thomas, I think that gentleman might be Mike Gill! I don't know who the girl is, though. I wonder why Mike decided to come out now? He always said he was a city boy at heart. Maybe he's just dropping in for a visit. It's pretty hot today. I'd better go get some cold lemonade. They're bound to be thirsty after that long hike." As Wendy chattered away Thomas squinted at the two figures. He couldn't make out enough detail to identify either of them, having left his glasses inside. They were just reaching the main gate as Wendy went in to get the drinks. One of the beagles had wandered away from the children and gone to wait for the new arrivals. As the man swung the wide gate open the dog sniffed at his feet a moment and then began dancing on his hind legs. It was pretty clear to Thomas that the animal knew him. After latching the gate again the man, the woman, and the beagle all walked across the big yard towards the porch. When they drew close enough for his damaged eyes to register details, Thomas realized Wendy had been right. Mike Gill had a pack on his back and a long coat hanging through the straps. His companion, a very pretty young lady, also had a pack and what seemed like a parka stored just like Mike's jacket. A red bandana was tied around her head and her somewhat odd gray and black jacket was hanging open, revealing a dull red shirt underneath. Combined with her black trousers and her unadorned black boots the outfit had a "uniform" flavor to it, at least to Thomas's eye. Both people looked worn from long hours of hiking. Wendy came out with a tray of glasses and a pitcher of lemonade as they approached the porch.

"Howdy, Mike!" Thomas said. "Y'all looked wiped out. Come, sit down and have some of Wendy's famous lemonade." He waved vaguely towards the other chairs on the porch. "Who's your pretty friend?" Wendy set the tray on the patio table and began pouring drinks for everyone. Mike shrugged out of his pack with a weary sigh and let it slip to the ground. He climbed the porch steps and walked over to the older man. Shaking hands with him, he said,

"Hello, Thomas. This is-"

"Anna Martinez," she interrupted, holding her hand out to Thomas. He took her soft hand into his withered one and shook. She held his hand gently but firmly, not flinching from the feel of it.

"Welcome to the Apple Farm, Ms. Martinez. I'm Thomas and that, there, is Wendy. Sit down, relax. You, too, Mike. You both look like you've been hiking for hours and, considering how far off of the beaten path we are, that's probably true. Sorry for not getting up," he added, "But I'm not in the best of shape and popping up and out of chairs isn't as easy as it once was." Mike and Anna took the proffered seats and the lemonade that Wendy held out to them. Both of them drank deeply before speaking again.

"Thomas, I want to apologize for not calling first," Mike began. "Things are getting bad in the city, though. When I left we were on the second day of a brown-out. I had to walk because I couldn't get enough of a charge for my car to make it this far." He looked at the older man intently. "I want to take you up on your offer, at least for a while." Thomas smiled at him.

"Shouldn't be a problem, Mike. We've got plenty of room and more than enough supplies. A couple more mouths to feed won't matter one way or another." Shifting his attention, he asked, "Where you planning on staying as well, Ms. Martinez?"

"Please, call me Anna," she answered, "And if you really don't mind I could use somewhere to stay for a couple of days." She seemed about to say more but instead closed her mouth and waited expectantly. Thomas chuckled.

"Any friend of Mike's is more than welcome. Stay for a day, stay for a year, it's all the same to me." He sipped at his lemonade.

"So where did you two meet?" Wendy asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

Mike looked at her. "Uh, well, out in the desert, actually." Wendy and Thomas both look perplexed.

"It's true," Anna interjected. "I'm a test pilot for UESPA," she pronounced it "yoo-spah". "I was on an experimental flight last night and something went wrong with the engine. I crashed and Mike, here, was nearby. He pulled me from the wreckage and we walked all night to get here. It was faster than going all of the way back to Phoenix." She gave Mike the briefest of sidelong glances as she said this. Wendy didn't notice but Thomas, a keen observer of the human condition, caught it. He filed it away in his mind for later reference. "I hope to go back out to my, to the wreck site and see if I can get things working again in a couple of days."

Wendy asked, "Can't you just contact someone from Williams to come get you? We may be a ways from civilization but we've got a phone. We're tied into the Net so it shouldn't be too difficult to reach whoever you need to."

Anna looked uneasy. "Um, there are complications. From the brown-out." Thomas noted another quick glance in Mike's direction. "It might be easier to just fix my sh-craft. I don't think there's that much actual damage to it." Wendy nodded, apparently satisfied with the explanation. Thomas just sat quiet, sipping his lemonade. Mike cleared his throat.

"Wendy, we've been walking a long time. Would it be possible for us to grab a shower and a little down time?"

Wendy looked concerned. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Where are my manners? Of course, Mike. I'll just shoo the kids outside for the afternoon so it's not too noisy in the Big House. C'mon, I'll get you some towels and show you where you can sleep." Mike and Anna grabbed their packs and jackets and wearily followed her into the house. Thomas stayed out on the porch gazing out at the orchard-filled valley with a thoughtful look on his face.

Mike and Anna slept the afternoon away, only rising as the other adults returned to the main house for dinner. Mike had changed into clothes that made him look like a ranch hand while Anna had put her uniform back on sans the jacket. Making their way downstairs from their rooms to the kitchen dining area, they entered the rather large room to be greeted with what looked like absolute chaos. Adults were bustling back and forth from the kitchen to the table carrying an assortment of dishes. None of them traveled in a straight line, having to dodge assorted kids and beagles that were running around, chattering and/or barking and, in the case of a couple of teens, setting the table. Anna stopped in the doorway, clearly intimidated by the pandemonium. Mike gave her a soft smile and a gentle nudge to her back to propel her into the room. Thomas, who was already seated at the head of the table, gestured to the chairs on either side of him. Being careful not to step on any of the dogs or kids crawling on the floor, they made their way over to their seats. After a few minutes all of the serving dishes were on the table, the dogs had been banished outside, toddlers were strapped into high chairs and the older children assigned to chairs down at the far end from Thomas and the two guests. The remaining adults took their places and a sort of quiet extended through the room. Everyone waited expectantly while Thomas cleared his throat.

"As is our custom, today we have received travelers requesting sanctuary. Most of you know Mike Gill. He's been handling certain affairs for us down in the city." Many of the adults nodded at him or Mike, with a murmured chorus of 'Hellos' and 'Hi, Mikes'. Thomas continued, "This young lady on my left is Anna Martinez. She's a test pilot for UESPA who crashed in the desert. Mike was kind enough to dig her out of the wreck and bring her here. She's going to rest for a day or two and then go back to try to repair her test vehicle. Apparently," he added in an aside, "The rolling brown-outs are causing difficulty for the people at Williams as well as in Phoenix." There were nods and smiles all around directed at Anna. Wendy stood up and took it upon herself to introduce the nine other adults at the table. Anna tried to keep up with who was who but she had never been good with names. She knew she'd stumble through trying to connect names and faces for most of the night. There was at least one Bill, a Martha and another Tom, who was married to Martha. That's all she really got on the first try. The smell of home-cooked food coming from the dishes in front of her was adding to her distraction. She hadn't eaten much of anything in the last eighteen hours or so. When Thomas called out "Dig in!" she gratefully focused on her meal.

Conversation around the table was lively and Mike dived in with as much gusto as he was currently showing for the bbq ribs in his hands. Anna chose to hold back and listen as she ate. Talk ranged from various projects on the farm to the children's current school assignments to international politics. Most of the adults were of the opinion that the ECON forces would surrender any day to the New UN divisions which were about to overwhelm them. Thomas noticed a shadow pass across Anna's and Mike's faces when they heard this. He didn't want to spoil the pleasant mood, though, so he kept his questions to himself. After dinner there was homemade ice cream for dessert. Mike and the children had big bowls while most of the other adults settled for more moderate portions. Anna, Thomas noted, politely declined. A few of the grown-ups aimed questions at Anna about her job as a test pilot. She answered mostly in generalities, citing classified reasons for avoiding any more specific questions. Most everyone was happy with that but Thomas was not. He made plans for a few questions of his own later on in private. He liked to know a little bit about the people who sheltered under his roof.

With the meal complete the children were press-ganged into clearing the table and doing the dishes. The younger ones were taken away for baths and the remaining adults retired to the porch to enjoy the evening weather. Conversation drifted around for a while, then Bill took out a guitar and began playing softly. The sun had set and the stars came out. Protected from the glare of the city by the valley's mountain walls, they blazed with a depth and number rarely seen or remembered in more populated areas. Anna wandered away from the porch and sat down in the yard with her back against a tree. She tilted her head up to gaze at the sky. So lost was she in her reverie that she didn't even notice Thomas until he was standing beside her.

"I'm sorry," he rumbled, "I didn't mean to startle you." The music wafted quietly in the background.

"That's ok, Thomas. I was just…" Her voice trailed off as she waved a hand upwards. He settled his cane into a more stable position and smiled.

Looking up as well, he said, "They are beautiful, aren't they? It's just like Christopher said, isn't it?" He sighed.

In a polite voice she asked, "Christopher? I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Thomas peered at her hard but in the darkness she didn't notice. "Ah, nothing, never mind," he said, "So, did you want a lift out to your plane tomorrow?"

"Um, actually, I'm still sort of sore from the crash. Maybe the day after would be better. I think I still need a bit more rest." He hadn't noticed her acting at all stiff when she'd walked over to the tree or now, as she rose gracefully to her feet in front of him.

Anna smiled at him. "In fact, I think I should go to bed now. Thanks again for all of your hospitality." She began walking towards the house.

"No problem," he muttered, watching her as she left. "Guess I'd better get to bed too," he said to himself. "Things to do tomorrow. Bright and early." With a tiny grunt of pain he began his own hobble towards the big farmhouse.

One of the women, Martha, had found out Anna didn't have anything else to wear besides her uniform. When Anna rose the next morning she slipped on the blue jeans and t-shirt Martha had given her. The jeans rolled down over her boots and as she examined herself in the mirror she realized she looked just like everybody else who lived on the farm. Brushing a strand of her hair out of her face, she made her way downstairs to the kitchen. She had expected to scrounge up some breakfast but instead found Thomas and Mike waiting for her at the kitchen table. Mike had a hang-dog expression and Thomas showed nothing at all on his face. He pointed at the chair next to Mike with his cane and told her to sit down. Wordlessly, she took the indicated seat. Thomas stared at her in silence for a long, drawn out moment.

"What's the 'United Federation of Planets'?" he asked. Although dark-skinned like her Latino father, some of the color seemed to drain out of her face. She glanced at Mike but he refused to meet her eyes. "No," Thomas said, answering her unspoken question, "He didn't tell me anything. I did roust him out of bed very early this morning, though, and made him take me to your crashed ship. It is a space ship, isn't it?"

Anna opened her mouth to speak and then her expression crumpled. "I can't talk about it," she practically whispered in reply. Her eyes had a haunted look. Thomas snorted.

"Young lady, you aren't aware of this but I spent the first fifteen years of my adult life as a computer programmer for an aerospace company. I may not be up with cutting edge technology but I can tell you that ship and its systems that you crash-landed in the desert is way beyond anything I've even heard rumors of. If we had that kind of technology in use the war would be over today!"

"It will be," she said dismally, then looked up with shock in her eyes.

"What did you say?" Thomas's voice was hard and his eyes pinned her like a needle through a butterfly. Anna clapped her hand over her mouth and shook her head mutely. "Young lady, I think an explanation is in order. I've seen a lot of this world but you and your ship…" His voice trailed off. "I managed to open that hatch on your ship," he said off-handedly, watching her reaction. Her hands trembled slightly as she rested them on the table. "Blue has always been my favorite color but I've never felt the urge to paint my skin that color." Anna looked like she was going to be sick. "I have a feeling about you, young lady, a feeling that you aren't anything like you claim to be." When Anna still remained silent the color rose in Thomas's face. "Get your things and get out," he said flatly, "I won't have a liar and a sneak under my roof!" As she nodded sadly and began to rise Mike jumped up from his chair with a shocked look on his face.

"Now wait just a minute, Thomas!" He was practically yelling. "You can't do that! Anna is here for sanctuary! I told you that when we arrived. You may be one of the founders but not even you can change the Society's rules! She can stay as long as she needs to. And I can tell you this-she needs to! Sending her away now could get her killed!"

Anna put her hand on Mike's arm. "Mike," she said softly, "That's enough. If Thomas wants me to leave, then I'll leave. He doesn't like liars and I can't tell the truth, you know that." Mike turned on her angrily.

"Maybe you can't but I can!" Before Anna could react Mike reached up and pushed her shoulder-length hair back behind her ear. Anna was too surprised to stop him in time. She tried to fan her hair forward but the damage had been done. The air whistled out of Thomas like a punctured balloon. Anna slowly sank back down to her seat. Tears began to leak down her cheeks and she put her head in her hands, sobbing quietly.

It was a beautiful ear, really, graceful and perfectly proportioned for her size. With a delicate lobe, it lay almost flat against her head, sweeping upwards…into a very noticeable point. Thomas stared at it, and her, silently. "Now do you understand?" Mike asked brusquely. Thomas just sat there and the only sound in the kitchen was Anna's weeping. Mike gently used his finger to flip her hair forward, covering the exotic ear once again. "Anna, I'm sorry, but I couldn't let him turn you out. You know what might happen to you if you leave the valley now." Mike was practically whispering but Thomas caught the unusual emphasis he put on the word "now". This tableau held until Bill, the guitar player from the night before, suddenly walked through the kitchen door. He stopped abruptly, taking in the scene.

"What the hell is going on?" he demanded, both hands on his hips.

Watching Thomas carefully, Mike replied, "Thomas doesn't like the fact that Anna has, mmm, some things she'd like to keep private. When she wouldn't discuss them Thomas ordered her to leave." Bill rounded on Thomas.

"Is that true?" There was anger in his voice.

Thomas sounded equally angry when he responded, "Bill, keep out of this. There are things going on here you know nothing about!" He shook his cane for emphasis.

"Bullshit, old man! You know the Society's rules! Hell, you helped write them. We do not turn away anyone needing help! If they need to hide, we hide them. As long as they've committed no violence they are safe in the Society's arms. Your words! Why are you going back on them? Did she commit an act of violence? Is that it? Because if it isn't, then you are way out of line." Bill spoke with quiet fury. "I don't know what her problem is but Mike vouched for her. That's good enough for me. You know," he continued, looking at Thomas's cane in a telling way, "After all you've done in the name of peace, all you've been through to help those in need, I can't believe you would turn your back on our rules now!"

Thomas looked shocked, like his favorite dog had just bitten him. Both Mike and Bill were glaring at him. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Shaking his head, he said, "Bill, I founded the Dove Society because I believe that people should have a chance to live without fear. To live in peace as they wish to live, according to whatever their personal customs and practices are. I-" Anna cut him off abruptly, dropping her hands from her face.

"Did you say 'Dove Society'?" Her voiced rasped out. All three men looked at her. Her face held a mixture of surprise and awe. Eyebrows climbed around the room.

Bill answered her. "Yup, this farm is an active chapter of the Dove Society." He glanced at Thomas and added, with a touch of sarcasm, "We exist to help those in need whenever we can and to support the cause of peace. I'm surprised you've heard of us. Given the nature of our activities, we try to keep a low profile. We have a tendency to make enemies, particularly amongst the kind of people who employ secret police and hit squads."

Anna looked hard at Thomas. "Would your last name happen to be Grayson?" When Thomas nodded Anna buried her head in her arms with a wail of despair. "Oh, crap, I've done it now. How could this happen to me? What am I going to do?" Bill and Mike seemed startled by her reaction but Thomas merely looked thoughtful. He seemed to find some inner calm. When he spoke his voice was very gentle. It immediately caught the men's attention.

"Boys, why don't you take a powder. I think Anna and I need to talk between ourselves." When they both looked dubious Thomas chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to try to toss her out while you're gone. I think I have an inkling of what Anna's problem is and if I'm right this is a conversation you don't need to be here for. Now, shoo," he added, waving his gnarled hands at them, "Get going. We'll talk later. And tell the others to stay out of the kitchen area 'till I say otherwise. That goes for the kids, too." Mike rose slowly and the two men reluctantly went out the kitchen door, both of them looking back over their shoulders. Thomas gave them a reassuring grin as they left. Heaving himself up and over to the chair Mike had vacated, he sat next to her and began to gently stroke her hair. Eventually she swallowed her tears in a series of short hiccups. Thomas began to speak.

"Back about thirty years ago I was working at my company's offices in Ankara. An Islamic Fundamentalist group seized power and they began deporting foreigners and arresting so-called 'non-Islamic intellectuals' and anyone else they deemed 'corrupted' by Western ways of thinking. I saw what was going on and I tried helping where I could. I'd smuggle people in the trunk of my car across the border into Iraq and Kurdistan. I used the high-tech facilities at my office to forge travel papers and IDs for those desperate to escape. The new government overlooked us when they started tossing Westerners out because we were engaged in upgrading their air force's flight software. Meanwhile, the Imams' courts began trying and executing just about everybody they had arrested. One night I got caught at the border with a family of four crammed in my trunk. The father was a professor of Western Literature. The Imams' had him on their list because they feared his knowledge." He snorted. "As if Byron or Shelley were a threat to them! Anyway, they arrested me as well and took me to a prison just outside Ankara. This was on a Friday. My employer didn't notice I was missing until Monday morning." He paused and held up his twisted, scarred hands. "This was the best the surgeons could do. I never forgot what happened and I swore I would fight against the kind of people who could do that kind of thing. I helped found The Dove Society to do just that. We believe in fostering peace and helping the oppressed. We work behind the scenes to stamp out the kind of ignorance that left me crippled up. If someone needs sanctuary then we help them hide." He stopped again and contemplated her tear-streaked face. "I guess what I saw in your ship shook me up more than I realized. I'm sorry I lost my temper with you. Thinking about it rationally, it's no surprise that you would lie. The truth, your truth, is probably a tremendous burden. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

Anna shook her heard slowly. "N-no, sir," she said respectfully, "I'm not allowed. I'm sorry," she added, "I'd like to but I just can't."

Thomas smiled at her to show her it was alright. "Y'know," he said, "I like to work puzzles, crosswords and anagrams and things like that. It keeps my mind agile as I grow older. I have some pieces to your puzzle. Let me see if I can put them together correctly. What say you get us a couple of cups of coffee. Martha put on a pot earlier." He gestured to one of the counters and Anna went and began to fix them their drinks. "I like mine black, please. Now, here's what I've got. The outside of your craft says, 'United Federation of Planets'. That could be some kind of union between Luna, Mars and Titan but I doubt it. You know, that was one of the things that made me suspicious of you."

From her place at the counter Anna looked back at him. "What was that, sir?" she asked.

"You didn't know what I was talking about under the tree last night." At her confused look he elaborated. "When I referenced the quote by Col. Shaun Geoffrey Christopher, the first man on Titan. 'From this dark night these heavenly stars call to us. Let us go boldly onward and outward and visit their friendly light.' A dawning look of comprehension lit Anna's face.

"I know that quote!" she said excitedly. "I just didn't remember who said it!"

"Hmm…" Thomas reacted. He cleared his throat. "Back to the puzzle. The corpse on your ship was…disturbing. It only took a moment to determine that blue was his natural color. And the line bisecting his face wasn't scar tissue." He chuckled. "I know something about that, believe me. Then there were the computers you have on-board. I've never seen voice-activation work so smoothly. Usually, you have to imprint your voice for a computer to recognize you. Also, I managed to pull up a number of what look like star charts. Why would a test pilot need star charts? Then there's your ears. They're very pretty but I've never seen anything quite like them." Anna returned to the table with their coffees. Thomas took a sip. "Aaah, good to the last drop. Now, at first," he said, continuing his train of thought, "I thought I had a bonafide alien in my house. I mean, don't even try to tell me that dead guy on your ship is human!" He paused and when Anna said nothing he continued. "However, I saw you at dinner last night. You handled your silverware like everyone else. You dove into the ribs like they were your favorite dish. And even though you didn't have any, I caught you looking at the ice cream with, well, longing, so you obviously know what it is. To me this all means you have a cultural familiarity no alien would possess. How am I doing so far?"

Anna just smiled at him. "Go on," she prodded, drinking her coffee.

He also took a drink and then continued. "Then there is the comment you made about the war ending today. And I saw the look on yours and Mike's faces when talk turned to the war last night." His tone turned sober. "You know something about the war the rest of us don't. Something that hasn't happened yet." He waited for a reaction but Anna had wiped all expression from her face. Nodding, Thomas continued, "Ok, so here's what we have. An advanced spaceship with 'United Federation of Planets' written on it in English. A dead alien wearing a uniform like you showed up here in. A complete familiarity with everyday Earth customs. An inability to recall what might be the most famous saying of the last twenty-five years. Your reaction when you learned my last name was very telling. And some kind of foreknowledge about the war." His eyes got a distant look to them as he stared down at the table. "If I follow the teachings of my favorite detective, Mr. Holmes…" His head snapped up suddenly and his eyes widened. "Oh, my God!" he breathed. He turned to stare at her and she could see the wonder in his eyes. "You're from the future!" he blurted out. A hint of despair crossed Anna's face. "I'm right!" Thomas chortled. "I'll be damned. A United Federation of Planets! And Earth is a part of it! By golly, there may be some hope for us yet!" He sounded positively gleeful. Then he noted the sadness in her eyes. "Wait a minute. What's going to happen today with the war?" he asked suspiciously. "And don't give me that crap about not being able to tell me. I've already figured out your secret, pretty much. So give."

Anna set her coffee down. "I-I can't say anything."

Thomas frowned at her. "If you know something that could save lives you need to tell me. I have contacts all over the world at many different levels. I might be able to do something about whatever's coming, save some people that might otherwise be lost!"

Anna got up from her seat and began to pace around the kitchen, obviously troubled. "That's the problem," she said. "What if you saved someone who isn't supposed to be saved? Or if someone died who would have lived? Don't you see, all of this," she waved her hand to take in the kitchen and the world, "This is all 'right now' for you but it's my history! I can't risk any changes any more than I could risk killing my own great-great whatever grandparents! I'm not supposed to be here and what I know isn't supposed to be known in the here-and-now!"

Thomas watched her walk back and forth with his eyes a moment before speaking. "Well, it seems to me that you told Mike enough to make him miserable. Why can't you tell me what you told him?"

Anna stopped and put her hands on the back of a chair. "Mr. Grayson, I was in shock from the crash. I had a head injury and I'd just lost my co-pilot. Then when I realized not only what happened but when I was…" She stared vacantly at a point over his head and then shrugged. "Let's just say I would take it back if I could. We have some experience with time travel in…my time and we've developed some very strict rules for how to act if it happens to us."

Thomas wasn't convinced. "But if it would save lives," he began. She slapped the table in frustration.

"They aren't supposed to be saved!" The anger in her voice was apparent now. Thomas had opened his mouth to give a retort when his line of sight took in the spot where she'd hit the table. His eyes grew very wide.

"Jesus, you cracked the table! The damn thing's oak! How the hell did you do that?" He looked up at her in amazement. Anna looked down and saw a long split in the wood roughly the length of her hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she said, one hand covering her mouth. "I didn't mean to do that!"

Thomas looked at her crossly. "Who cares whether you meant to or not. I want to know how you did that! That table has to weigh three hundred pounds!"

She grinned at him. "Let's just say I got more than my ears from my mother's side of the family." He raised a single eyebrow at her skeptically and she started to giggle.

"What's so funny?" he asked. She stifled her laughter.

"Sorry. That's the same look my mother would give me if I told her I didn't know who broke the vase or who let the dog out of the yard." Thomas began to grin as well. Pulling her chair back out, he gestured for her to sit down. She walked over and dropped into it.

"Finish your coffee," he said good-naturedly. As she drank he continued, "So Anna Martinez probably isn't really your name, is it?" He lifted his cup too as he awaited a reply.

She sighed. "Anna was my paternal grandmother. It was the first thing I could think of." She looked sheepish. "But Martinez really is my family name!" she said hurriedly. "It's just that my given name isn't too common in this century. At least, not on Earth. My real name is T'Ela." She pronounced it properly, with the accent on the second syllable.

"T'Ela." Thomas rolled the name around his mouth. "What does it mean?"

"Oh," T'Ela replied, a bit startled, "It sort of means 'rain falling in the desert' but that's a loose translation. It's a bit difficult because the concept is foreign to, ah, Human experience." She watched his reaction carefully as she said this but he seemed to take it in without any problem. "My mother comes, came, um, she was born on a desert planet. Her native language has over fourteen words for sand." He nodded at this.

"And what race is she?" he asked innocently. T'Ela was startled but replied truthfully.

"Vulcan. One of the founding worlds of, um, I should probably avoid that. Sorry."

"No problem, T'Ela. I think I'm beginning to understand. Let me ask you this. In a general way, would you say this future you come from is a good society, a good place to live?" He watched her carefully as she answered him.

"Oh, certainly!" The excitement in her voice was unmistakable. "It's a wonderful time, full of amazing…" Her voice trailed off. "I shouldn't be telling you any of this."

He chuckled. "You're probably right. It's obvious to me that you know of The Dove Society. You knew my last name, too, so I can only surmise that something made it into the history books. Did you have any questions for me?" He seemed amused by the idea.

She grinned mischievously at him. "Just one. Why the heck aren't you in Boston?"

He seemed surprised by the question. "With these old bones, why the hell would I want to live anywhere that cold?" he countered. She smiled knowingly at him before responding.

"Ah, well, you never can tell what the future may bring." There was a knock on the door and Bill stuck his head in. He looked worried.

"I hope you two have worked out your differences. Thomas, I fired up the 'screen over in the smithy to catch up on the latest news. You better come and see this." He ducked back out again, leaving the door ajar. With a concerned look at T'Ela, Thomas grabbed his cane and began hobbling outside. T'Ela followed, closing the door behind them. She hurriedly caught up to him so he could use her arm for support. He didn't protest at all as he normally would have. He'd seen what she'd done to the table.

***********

It took a little while for them to get to the smithy as Thomas couldn't walk very fast. This gave T'Ela time to look around at the various out-buildings. There was a large greenhouse right next to the barn. Another building, about the size of a house, had a peculiar hopper built into the side of it. Thomas told her it was for processing the farm's apples into cider. There was also a bunkhouse behind the barn for the seasonal help to stay in. The smithy itself stood a bit apart from the other structures to reduce the risk of fire. As a whole, T'Ela thought the farm looked fairly self-sufficient. Given what she knew about the near-future she thought that might be important.

When they arrived at the smithy they saw the rest of the adults gathered around a large broadcast screen. A worried-looking man in a dark blue suit was speaking out of it.

"…with the 3rd Combined NUN fleet. Communications have also been lost with most of the western coastal area of India but observers farther inland report seeing a very bright flash from somewhere in the direction of the ocean itself. Military spokesmen both for the Combined Forces and the US Navy are refusing comment at this time." The woman named Martha was sitting on a bench along the side wall, sobbing in the arms of the other man named Tom. His face was anguished but free of tears. T'Ela nudged Thomas and gave him an inquiring look. He leaned towards her and said, sotto voice,

"Her brother is with the 3rd aboard the USS Endeavor." His voice sounded strained.  
Raising his voice over the general murmurs, Thomas asked, "Bill, have we heard anything more than that?" Bill and a few others shook their heads, "No." Thomas thought for a few moments as Mike slipped over to stand on T'Ela's other side. The two young people exchanged a knowing look. Then Thomas spoke up so all present could hear. "OK, people, until we learn more there's not much we can do except prepare for the worst, just in case. Bill, I need you to make sure all of the equipment is in the barn and properly stored. Don, go check the back-up generator and the water pump out at the well. Test them both and make sure they're in working order." The two men headed for the door. "Wendy, get the older kids to help you round up the animals and get them penned up in the barn. We can put the dogs in the house. The rest of you need to go out to the outer cottages and tape down windows and place breakables in safe locations. Don't forget to tape cabinets shut, too. Tom, why don't you take Martha up to my room. Mike and T-um, Anna and I will go get the big 'screen in the main house up and running. That's all, people. Let's get to it and pray for the best." Everyone dispersed to do their assigned tasks. Mike, T'Ela and Thomas made their way back to the house. As they walked, Thomas turned to T'Ela and asked, "Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?" She just looked at him bleakly for a moment. "Ah, well, I had to ask," he said. Mike opened his mouth as if to speak, then thought better of it and closed it again. They went the rest of the way in silence, each buried in their own ruminations.

Once they reached the house they went into the big front room. Many of the furnishings looked antiquated but comfortable. Thomas gestured with his cane towards a large square object covered in a drop cloth and propped up against the wall behind one of the couches.

"That's the 'screen." Thomas said. "Why don't you two-" He stopped, speechless, as T'Ela strode over to the object in question and hefted it over the couch. Standing there, holding it up, she innocently asked,

"Where do you want it?"

Mike couldn't contain his guffaws and Thomas glared at him before pointing over at the fireplace that lined one wall. "It's pretty big," he said, "Why don't you lean it against the mantle?" Turning to Mike he said, "If you're through, perhaps you could get it wired up?" Mike was still snickering as he went over to show T'Ela how to hook it into the house's Net service. Thomas shook his head in disgust and took a seat in an over-stuffed armchair. "Your mother must have been quite a lady, T'Ela," he commented to her. Mike looked startled at the use of her real name.

"You told him?" he asked. T'Ela shook her head.

"He put the basics together himself. But he doesn't know everything so remember what I told you on the way here." Mike nodded to her while Thomas watched the exchange between them with interest. It was the work of a few moments to get the 'screen hooked up and as soon as they were done Mike began fiddling with the onscreen controls. He managed to capture three different broadcasts, two new ones in split-screen on the top half and the one they'd seen out in the smithy on the bottom half. All three of the announcers were repeating the same basic information that they'd already heard. T'Ela and Mike grabbed seats on one of the couches and they all sat back to watch. Time passed with no new facts coming to light. As they finished their assigned tasks various members of the Society came wandering in and found seats. The afternoon wore on. Martha and Tom came downstairs from Thomas's room around four o'clock and joined them. Martha's eyes were puffy from crying but she seemed to have regained control of herself. Several times Mike looked like he wanted to say something to Thomas but he contained himself after a look from "Anna". Finally, at about five fifteen, T'Ela motioned for Thomas to join her and Mike in the kitchen. After threatening dire consequences if anyone took his seat he followed her in.

"So, did you change your mind?" Thomas asked. T'Ela looked very distraught and her hand sought out Mike's. Thomas noticed but didn't comment.

"I shouldn't do this. I really shouldn't do this. If I get back to my own time there will be severe consequences but…" She paused as if gathering herself. "Thomas, does the farm have a fall-out shelter or some kind of basement big enough to hold everyone?" Thomas looked at her a moment, then at Mike, who looked back grimly. His eyes grew wide as he realized why she would be asking this.

"Dear God! How much time do we have?" For the first time since T'Ela had met him, Thomas's voice quavered like an old man's would. He seemed to sway a tiny bit as he stood there.

"About forty-five minutes, give or take a minute." It was like the words were dragged out of her.

"That should be enough time, just barely, I think. The Society often hides those that others seek. The whole barn is a hidden shelter. There's a half-dozen rooms under the barn's floor. The floor's foundation is six inches of concrete so that should afford us some protection. We have to hurry, though. We'll need large supplies of food and…" Forgetting them, he was already compiling a list of what to do as he re-entered the front room. They followed him in only to be met with chaos. The pictures on the 'screen had changed and most of the adults were talking at once, drowning out the announcers' voices.

"They said Tel Aviv is gone!"

"…possible explosions in France!"

"…Marines outside Cairo destroyed in an instant!"

Thomas called for everyone to be silent and eventually it was, with only the murmurs from the 'screen to be heard. "I need you all to gather as much food as you can in the next twenty minutes and bring it to the shelter. Martha and Wendy, get the kids and dogs down there now and keep them there, no matter what! C'mon, folks, we have to hurry because there isn't, um, may not be much time!" The chaos became order as everyone scrambled to follow his instructions. Thomas turned to Mike and T'Ela. "Why don't the two of you," he emphasized 'two', "Take the 'screen down to the shelter and get it set up." They hurried to comply. Looking around for a moment, Thomas sighed and began the long walk to the barn.

*********

Mike and T'Ela were waiting for Thomas when he arrived at the barn.

"We put the 'screen in the main room and connected to the Net," Mike said to him. "I figured you might need a little help getting down the stairs so..." He shrugged.

The entrance to the shelter was concealed in one of the horse stalls. The floor had dropped away on hinges to reveal a concrete stairwell running down underground. Thomas looked at it and wrinkled his brow with concern. It was steep and lacked handrails. There were at least twenty-five steps or more. Thomas hadn't been down it in years. As he stood there worrying about the descent Mike and T'Ela exchanged a meaningful glance. T'Ela snatched his cane away and as he began to lose his balance Mike grabbed him around the waist with both arms. "What the-" Thomas began to protest.

"This isn't a time to stand on your dignity, Thomas." Mike chuckled a little as he hefted Thomas into a fireman's carry and started down the steps, T'Ela following with the cane. When they reached the bottom there was a large metal door, currently propped open. Mike stepped through into the main room of the shelter. It was large, easily as big as the front room of the farmhouse up above. They'd hooked the 'screen up on the far wall near the hallway that led to the rest of the shelter. The room was stark, with little decoration but it had more than enough chairs and couches to seat everyone. Most of the adults were still busy stowing the supplies they'd gathered and the children could be heard off somewhere down the hall. Although still noisy, as any group of children tended to be, the strained atmosphere in the shelter had reduced their usual bustle to a dull roar. Mike put Thomas into an easy chair facing the 'screen and T'Ela handed him his cane, which he gruffly accepted. Mike ducked back up the stairs to seal the shelter entrance and T'Ela took a seat next to Thomas.

"Do you have the time?" T'Ela asked him. Thomas looked at the old-fashioned wristwatch on his arm.

"It's five-fifty. How much longer until whatever it is happens?" T'Ela gestured at the 'screen.

"It's already started," she said. Mike had set the 'screen to receive four channels simultaneously. In the top left corner there where scenes of troops wearing traditional sky blue NUN helmets. They appeared to be fleeing some kind of firestorm. The key in the corner listed the location as five miles outside of Dakar. In the other corner, a reporter was saying something to the camera but the volume on all four feeds was muted to avoid confusion. Behind him, military scramjets with EU and German markings were taking off, one after another in quick succession. The location was an airbase in Bitburg. The third corner was a satellite image of a stretch of ocean. A vast, roiling hole could be seen in the water's surface through the steam billowing up from it. The caption said "Former 3rd Combined Fleet." In the fourth corner was a computer graphic of the Asian continent. The beginnings of what looked like ballistic arcs were rising up from the ground. The words "ATTACK IMMINENT!" flashed on the screen in an overlay. Thomas groaned and buried his face in his hands. T'Ela reached over and patted his shoulder awkwardly.

"I know it's no real comfort, Thomas, but something better will come out of all of this. It will take time and great effort but in the end things will be better." T'Ela spoke quietly so the others now entering the room couldn't hear her. Most of them seemed to go into shock as they looked at the 'screen and every one of them dropped onto the nearest couch or chair. No one spoke. Mike had come back into the room and taken a seat next to T'Ela. As the images of horror played out he reached over and took her hand. She gave him a wan smile in return. In the lower right corner the ballistic arcs became more pronounced, although some of them seemed to have stopped dead. Martha noticed this and pointed it out.

"What's it mean?" she asked no one in particular. Don answered her.

"It means our anti-missile defenses are starting to knock them down. There's dozens of them, though. I doubt they'll get them all." The gloom in his voice was obvious. Thomas checked his watch. Five fifty-nine. He showed it to T'Ela. She nodded and slipped off to the other room where Wendy had the kids. Wendy looked up as she entered.

"What's happening, Anna?" T'Ela gave her a knowing look over the children's heads.

"No time, Wendy. Get everyone to sit on the floor, ok? Just trust me and do it quick!" Startled at the vehemence in "Anna's" voice, Wendy hurriedly complied, shooing kids off of the bunkbeds and chairs and onto the floor. T'Ela dashed back to the main room. She saw that the feeds from Dakar and Bitburg had gone to static. "Thomas, the time!" she snapped out.

"Six oh-two," he replied promptly. Mike looked sick to his stomach.

"Everybody brace yourselves!" T'Ela called out. Then she dropped down to the floor in a lotus position. The others were mostly stunned by what they had been watching and confused by her command so almost no one was ready when the floor seemed to reach up and SLAPPED them hard. People tumbled out of chairs and fell off of couches. Thomas had a firm grip on his chair but his cane went flying and hit a wall, snapping in two. Mike had been aware of what was coming and so had also braced himself. From the other room children were screaming and crying. The sounds of glass breaking came from the kitchen area. The event seemed to rumble right through their bones for several long seconds and then all was still. All of the lights and power failed only to come back on a moment later. Martha shook off her daze and rushed to help Wendy with the frightened kids, Tom hot on her heels. The others pulled themselves up off of the floor slowly, still in shock.

"What was that?" Don asked. The 'screen showed only static now.

"Palo Verde Nuclear Facility and a big chunk of west Phoenix," T'Ela replied. As soon as the words came out of her mouth the floor rumbled and vibrated again, although with far less severity. T'Ela looked grim. "And that was Davis-Monthan down in Tucson," she said, referring to the Air Force facility down by the US-Mexico border. "Probably most of Tucson, too," she added. Faces were ashen all around the room.

"What are we going to do now?" Don asked. He sounded bewildered and lost. Thomas seemed to gather his composure. He stood, using the easy chair's arm for support. Mike stood up alongside him, waiting expectantly.

"We are going to do what the Dove Society has always done. As soon as it's safe to go outside we're going to help those in need." He looked thoughtful yet resolved. "I imagine there are a lot more people like that in the world now than there was a little while ago. They're going to need our help and we will be there for them." Slowly, as they absorbed this, heads around the room began to nod in affirmation.

T'Ela looked at Mike "How is the Dove Society going to help under these circumstances?" Mike didn't respond at first, still dazed by what had happened. "Mike?' T'Ela sounded upset, very upset. "Mike!" She grabbed his face in her hands. "Mike, how can we help?" Thomas noticed that "Anna" included herself as a member of his group. He nodded approvingly and then looked at Don. "We're going to get people out of trouble, Don, like we always have. Let's inventory what we have in the way of supplies, get the children settled and see about some kind of supper. That'll do for a start." He eased himself back where he sat. Don nodded and headed for the rear store room. Mike looked up at T'Ela.

"You said, but it, I didn't think…" His voice trailed off. T'Ela held his head to her shoulder for a moment, crooning a soft melody Thomas didn't recognize. For just a second words slipped out of her mouth. Thomas realized she was singing softly to him.

"S'harsi alui an soh fahs siul…" The melody was eerie, almost Chinese in its tonality and Thomas wondered again about the future. None of the other adults seemed to notice anything but "Anna" comforting Mike much as Bill held Martha in his arms. Mike seemed to take strength from whatever song "Anna" was singing to him and when she patted his head he smiled up at her. It wasn't a smile of joy, more a confirmation of her shared will. He collected himself visibly and said,

"I think I'm ok now. Thank you." He looked at T'Ela with warmth on his face, an expression of…relief, Thomas thought. The 'screen, which had never lost power, suddenly erupted into life. Everyone left in the room turned towards it.

T'Ela's hand covered her mouth in surprise but Thomas heard what she whispered before her hand could squelch it. "The Carter Report. Oh, my, …"

The man on the screen was wearing a typical anchorman's blue suit. Behind him was a picture window, a vast sheet of glass that allowed the viewers to see New York harbor and the Statue of Liberty behind him. He looked worried, his brows furrowed. Not a person in the room breathed as the first words left his mouth.

"My name is Reagan Carter and I'm here on the 101st floor at the CNN headquarters in New York. We have received word of multiple nuclear strikes in NUN territory in the last few minutes. While things are…" he hesitated here, as though unsure what to say, "chaotic, we've been able to determine that the strike launched by the ECON nations has managed to penetrate our missile defense to some extent. Reports are coming in that Omaha, Phoenix, Ft. Lauderdale and San Antonio have been destroyed." He glanced off to his right. "I've just been told that Chicago was also hit." His expression was bleak. "We were told by the NORAD people at Cheyenne Mountain that our own response was pushed, and I quote, 'to the edge of the ecological limit' end quote." Tears leaked from his eyes, unnoticed. "As far as we've been able to determine, there are no living creatures between Hong Kong and Islamabad. Although the ECON forces attempted to use certain, quote, 'superweapons', end quote, the forces of the NUN were ready and neutralized them before they could come into play. UESPA teams managed to deactivate or destroy the military satellites that ECON forces have launched in the last few days. God help us, terrible as it sounds, I think the war may finally be over." He swiped blindly at the tears in his eyes.

A voice from off-screen said, "Reagan! Oh, God! The window!" Even as the anchorman turned to look behind himself the cameras picked up the twin contrails rapidly approaching.

Reagan looked back to the cameras. "I'm sorry, I guess I was wrong. The war may not be quite finished. I think we're all dead here. God bless the United States of America!" A white light flashed on the screen and it returned to static.

T'Ela felt Thomas reach down and grasp her shoulder. She looked up at him and saw tears streaming silently from his eyes. Mike sat on the floor, still staring at the screen in a daze. T'Ela held Thomas's eyes. "One day, that will be famous. Like the Zapruder film, or the footage of Challenger. It's a piece of history that mattered, that changed minds." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "One day, when delegates to a conference to create a United Earth are arguing, a very wise man will play that footage and ask if that will happen again. The delegates will shelve their arguments and vote in a world government. His death will not be in vain."

Thomas stared into her eyes. "I should hope not. Too many have died today."


End file.
